


58. Home from Italy

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [58]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	58. Home from Italy

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

"These are yours," Antony says with a grin, tossing a pair of briefs in Stephen's direction. "And these too, I think," he says, skipping the next pair across the dining room table. There's laundry in the condo but the room doubles as storage which means the dining room table doubles as a folding counter. "We need to colour-code them or something." Either that, or buy different kinds. Christ. He yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. They've only been home for a couple of hours but already they're unpacked, one load of laundry through and the other in the dryer.

"Why? S'it matter if I wear your underwear on occasion?" Stephen grins, folding the briefs and setting them on his pile, next he picks up a tee and shakes it out. "We're pretty much the same size in all but one thing," he smirks, giving his lover a cheeky wink. He's hit his second wind, which means sometime in the next 90 minutes he'll hit a wall and will be too tired to stand.

"But if you wear mine, I'll have to wear yours, and I'll end up stretching them out," Antony responds, eyes crinkling at their corners.

Stephen snorts in amusement. "You know, I'm not sure who's more smug about your dick, you for owning it, or me for getting to lay claim to it." He hands over the folded tee and picks up another. "I don't think I can ever look at other dick the same way again."

"Good. Then I've done my job," Antony jokes, setting the tee with his pile and handing over one of Stephen's, already folded.

"Your job?" Stephen rolls his eyes. "Don't you miss fucking other people? I mean...you got used to variety, right?" As far as Stephen's aware the only other person Antony still sees - and that's not very often - is Ian.

Antony stops what he's doing and looks at Stephen. "You _want_ me fucking other people?"

Stephen blinks and stills, replays what he said in his head. "Uh, no...I mean, I thought you were..." he stops, frowning he takes a moment to get his words straight. "No. I know there's Ian, and I kinda assume there's sometimes women when you're away, but...no, and that's not what I said, I asked if you missed it." And now he feels like he just stepped into a minefield that there were no signposts for. "The kinky hook ups at the club kinda thing."

"I don't," Antony says, shaking his head. "Doesn't mean I won't do it again but right now I have no interest in it." Mostly because he's just enjoying being with Stephen, their relationship all the variety he needs after years of one night stands.

"I'm enough?" Stephen's hands still on the shirt he's folding. "Just me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" Antony asks, but of course it is. He exhales softly. "Did Cam fuck around?"

Stephen's forehead wrinkles up and his chin dips to his chest. Like he's ashamed - which is ridiculous - but it's the speed at which Antony nails the source of his lack of confidence that discomforts him. "I wasn't the only boy, I was the second." Which is why he wasn't partner material - the other boy was allowed to play that role when it suited.

Christ. Antony quickly tamps down on the anger that rises towards Stephen's ex and walks around the table. He leans against it and pulls Stephen into his arms. "Well, you're my boy and my partner and no one else is going to be either of those. Ever." He pauses for a second then continues. "I can't promise that I won't decide to pick someone up at the club at some point but it sure as hell won't be while you're waiting at home for me or because you're not enough. I've had years to fuck around. You really think I don't know just how special you are? How lucky I was to find you?"

Stephen sets his forehead to Antony's shoulder, his lover's arms are such a safe space. "I know, I know all that, and really, I'm fine with it...it's just, it's old pain, shit I haven't quite let go of yet. I don't know why." He blows out a breath, arms slipping around Antony's waist. "I guess, now I know how it's supposed to be, being a boy, I'm angry at myself for letting myself be treated like that."

Antony nods his understanding. "You never told me there was another boy."

Scrunching his eyes up as if in pain, Stephen holds his breath for a space, and makes to pull away, but Antony's arms stop him. "Why would I? Why would I tell you that I was not just the boy who was only good enough to get short term contracts, but that I was the boy who had to set himself second to another? I didn't see him very often, we were kept separate, so most of the time I pretended he didn't exist."

Because we're supposed to tell each other everything, Antony thinks, but doesn't say it, well aware of his own failings in that regard. "You're making it very hard for me to not punch Cam's fucking lights out when we see him," he says instead, kissing the side of Stephen's throat.

"He's not worth it," Stephen murmurs, eyes still squeezed shut. "But thank you."

Antony tightens his arms around Stephen. "No, he's not worth it, and he wasn't worth you," he says softly. "And he took advantage of the fact you couldn't see that."

Another deep inhale, the smell of his lover easing his tension. "Did I? Do I value myself so cheaply?" It's a question he's wondered before - and it's an uncomfortable thought.

"I don't think you do anymore," Antony says, shifting a little so Stephen fits even better against him. "But yeah, I think you did with him. And maybe with others."

"Then I didn't value the gift I gave you very highly did I?" Stephen pulls back to look at Antony's face. "When I gave myself to you, when I gave you my submission. You deserve the best, the very best I can be, and I will always try and be that for you," he promises fervently.

"I know you will," Antony responds, staring into Stephen's eyes. He wants to point out that Stephen did ask for what he needed with him but that's not the point here. "And I will try to be the very best Sir I can for you."

"You are, you already are," Stephen's brow furrows for a moment before smoothing out. "You're...everything I never knew I wanted, all I need, you're so confident in us - you make me a better boy, every day. You make me a better person every day."

"You have no idea how true that is for me too," Antony says with a smile. "You make me spend more time being _this_ person, this version of me, not the one I have to be for work."

"This version of you is pretty fucking epic," Stephen reaches up now, presses his palm to where the tags sit against Antony's heart. "I have never loved someone how I love you."

"Same here," Antony responds, laying a hand over Stephen's, ignoring the fact that he's never loved anyone at all. Not really. Not like this. "You think this laundry can wait?"

Stephen's face lights up with a bright smile. "What laundry?"

Antony smiles back, folding his hand around Stephen's and pulling him down the hall towards their bedroom.

Stephen goes easily, he's more than ready to be distracted, to be loved, however Antony sees fit. He has eyes only for his lover and Sir.

Turning, the back of his legs against the end of the bed, Antony pulls Stephen in close and kisses him softly, slowly and gently exploring his mouth. Hands on his back, sliding up under his tee to the warm skin beneath.

He wasn't sure what to expect, but this kind of tenderness wasn't it - Antony rarely kisses him like this for long. Stephen's own hands mirror his lover's, up and under his shirt, only Stephen makes for Antony's chest and the warm, crisp hair there.

Drawing back only to relieve Stephen of his t-shirt, Antony grins and kisses him again, laying a path from lips to throat to shoulder. Everything slow and gentle. Even his hands which slide under the back of Stephen's waistband but no further. He wants to take his time with this. Make love to his boy. His partner.

"Oh!" Stephen exhales when Antony finds a particularly sensitive spot with his lips. His own fingers press into the meat of one pec, the flesh warm beneath his palm. "Tony?"

"Yeah?" Antony murmurs, smiling against Stephen's skin.

Lashes fluttering, Stephen can hear, he can feel that smile, and it sends a special wash of warmth right through him. "Never mind," he mumbles, "Jus'...please don't stop."

"I won't," Antony promises, lifting his head, his hands on the front of Stephen's jeans now, easing down his zipper. "But I want you naked."

One hand reaching down to take over undoing his jeans, Stephen reaches to wrap a hand around Antony's skull and he pulls him back down. "You stopped," he rumbles. Moments later he's shaking his ass so his jeans slide over his hips and pool at his feet.

Antony chuckles and returns to kissing his boy. Kissing him all over. Mouth moving from nipple to nipple, licking and sucking and biting gently, tongue quickly soothing any sharpness.

Now it's Stephen's turn to pluck impatiently at clothing and he manages to manhandle Antony out of his own shirt, before working on his jeans, until they're stood, naked from the ankles up. His dick thickened up some time ago, and it bumps against Antony's own swollen organ.

"C'mere," Antony murmurs, taking Stephen's hand again and leading him onto the bed, his lover urged onto his back, Antony draped over him. "I want you just to enjoy this," he says, making sure Stephen knows nothing's expected of him. He's not boy here, now. Not like that anyway.

A flicker of confusion in the near dark. "I always enjoy this," he returns, drawing his nails up Antony's back in a lazy caress.

"I know," Antony says with a smile, starting his kisses at Stephen's mouth again. "I mean, let me love you. As my partner, my lover..." Trailing down his throat and across his collarbones.

Stephen can't recall Antony ever saying anything like that before, he lifts his head to look down at where Antony is kissing him, before letting it drop back to the bed, his own hands still moving over warm skin. "Okay...yeah..."

Retracing his earlier path, Antony moves downward, mouth moving over Stephen's chest. Sucking each nipple into his mouth, tongue and teeth working at them until they're rigid nubs. But then he moves still lower, attention paid to each and every patch of skin on his way.

There's not much Stephen can do, other than lay back and enjoy it. And boy does he. Eyes closed he centres himself as he would right before a scene, so he can focus on the pleasure he's being gifted, the attention being lavished on him. This is a rare and precious experience.

Face level with Stephen's groin, Antony brushes his lips over the tops of Stephen's thighs, the tight curls nestled just above, mouth moving closer and closer to the hard flesh straining for his attention. Breath ghosting over that flesh in a wicked tease.

"Tony...Tony please..." Stephen groans, his skin flushing with arousal he lifts his head to look down his own body to where his lover's mouth hovers over his cock, which is already weeping clear precum. "Please..."

Unable to resist, to drag out the tease any longer, Antony licks a long line from the base of Stephen's cock to the tip, tongue swirling over the slit, gathering the precome there with a low groan.

His lover's tongue lights up his skin as it moves the length of his dick, Stephen's head drops back to the bed and he blows out a hard breath followed by, "Jesus fuck! So good..."

"Glad you think so," Antony can't resist murmuring before he takes Stephen in, the crown held in his mouth and sucked lightly before drawing him deeper in his throat.

He heard Antony's words and it makes Stephen huff out a breathless laugh. "Everything you do to me...so good..." He draws his legs up, and lets them fall open, thighs splayed. His balls drawing up tight the more aroused he becomes.

Antony hums around his mouthful of flesh, relaxing his throat muscles and taking Stephen still deeper, until he's got his nose buried in those tight curls, breath completely cut off. And then he draws back, almost all the way off, before taking him in again. Starting to build a rhythm.

Antony can take all of Stephen's dick - and it's fucking amazing - he's trembling, his breath hitching every time Antony's tongue does something particularly wicked. "Not long..." he warns, because, yeah, as much as he'd like this to last - there's little chance of that happening.

It's tempting to pull off and make Stephen wait until he's inside him but it's not often they do this. It's not often Stephen gets to come in Antony's mouth, that Antony gets to taste his boy like this. So instead he simply nods, redoubling his efforts, urging his lover over the edge.

"Oh yes! Fuck yes!" Stephen's grabbing handfuls of the bedding, his shoulders lifting off the bed, his throat bared - corded - as he falls over and cums hard, his cock pulsing deep inside Antony's mouth.

Fuck yes is right. Antony swallows and swallows, the thick wave of come threatening to overwhelm before he manages to relax again and take it all. The taste of his lover still on his lips, his tongue, his teeth when he rises up, moving between Stephen's thighs, claiming his mouth, letting him get a taste.

Wrapping his arms around Antony's neck, Stephen opens his mouth and kisses him back, licking in to taste himself, hungry for his lover now that he's satisfied.

"I need to do that more often," Antony murmurs between kisses, reaching for the lube they keep in the bedside table. "You taste good."

"You definitely need to do that more often," Stephen agrees, his smile pressed against Antony's mouth. He shifts when Antony's ready, pulling his legs back, and despite having just cum, he's more than ready to be fucked, ready to experience that perfect fullness that only Antony can deliver.

"Oh, fuck," Antony murmurs, slowly pushing in, that tight heat instantly making his head swim. The way Stephen's body opens up and welcomes him. It's like nothing and no one else. His perfect match. "You feel so good..."

He's said it before, and he'll say it again, because it's so true for him. "Made for you," he whispers against the shell of Antony's ear, his hands pressing down against Antony's broad back, fingers clawing up to scratch.

"Mm-hm," Antony nods, both agreement and encouragement, his cock pushed in until he's as deep as he can go. Buried in his boy, his lover. He pushes up, bracing himself on his hands and draws back, eyes locked on Stephen's face as he pulls out and pushes back in, long, steady strokes.

Wrapping his legs around his lover's Stephen tilts his hips up, his hands playing along the line of Antony's back. It really is different like this, no power play, other than the fact Antony is physically above him, like he always is when they have non kinky sex - or as non kinky as they get. "I love you."

"I love you too. So much," Antony murmurs, keeping his pace slow, his strokes deep, his eyes locked on Stephen's as he moves into him again and again. Savouring this intimacy between them.

Stephen's not so sure he'll be able to cum again, even like this, his dick's only half hard, and it's no reflection on Antony, more that he's tired from a long flight and he's already orgasmed once. It doesn't stop him revelling in the sex however, in some ways he can enjoy it differently, he gets to watch as his lover becomes more aroused, as his pupils dilate, and sweat beads over his brow, his breath stuttering. It's a heady thing to see a man so usually in control, so contained, slowly, but surely come apart like this. His fingers play over Antony's face and throat and he urges him on with soft noises.

God. Antony rocks into Stephen, the intensity building, the force behind his thrusts increasing. Buries himself so deep with each fluid motion that he swears Stephen should be able to taste him. Not quite ready to come yet. Not if he can hold out. Not if he can-- _fuck_. An aborted attempt to stave off his orgasm comes too late and suddenly Antony's arching up, back bowed, hips pumping thick ropes of seed into his lover.

Keeping his hands moving Stephen drinks it all in, the way his lover's face contorts, the almost pained noise he makes and the apparent bliss of release. "Hmm, love you, love you so much," he murmurs, pulling Antony down on top of him, and into his arms. He presses his lips to sweat salty skin, "I've got you..."

Antony nestles in, mouth pressed to the side of Stephen's throat. Letting himself relax, trust, lose himself completely in his lover for a long moment. Utterly content. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he whispers. He's said it before and he'll say it again but he means it. Means it with every fibre of his being. Not sure how he lived his life before Stephen.

"And you for me," Stephen tucks his chin in to peer down, smiling at the look on his lover's face. "You don't need to move my darling man, just lay with me, okay?"

Antony nods. "But if I lie here too long I won't be getting up," he warns, mostly teasing.

"And?" Stephen nuzzles into Antony's hairline and places a kiss there.

"Laundry won't get done, dinner won't get made, we'll starve," Antony says with a grin but his eyes are closed and his breathing's slowing.

"Laundry can wait, dinner can be ordered in later, and you will not starve," Stephen's voice is warm with humour, his fingers rubbing a gentle pattern against his lover's shoulder. "Sleep Tony..."


End file.
